


'Tis Pity She's a Whore

by athousandwinds



Category: Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Judge <i>knows</i> women like Lucy Barker, and he knows that it's just a matter of time before she falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis Pity She's a Whore

His lordship _knows_ women like Lucy Barker, that's all.

It's not simply that she's married. A great many women are married, and his lordship has no particular desire for them all. It's not simply that she's pretty. His lordship has seen a good few pretty women in his lifetime, some more or less so than others. It's not simply that she seems pure and virginal, like a dewy spring morning or an unread newspaper. The last time his lordship saw a woman so overflowing with Artemisian charm, she offered very high rates for an hour's companionship, cash beforehand.

It's a combination of all three, his lordship supposes, but most of all, it's the certain knowledge of the whore in her. All women have it, to a greater or lesser degree. Lucy Barker, with all her flowers and white dresses, can get just what she likes out of her husband. A ring, a home, a baby. But his lordship doubts that she shows her full self to her husband, not when she can winkle all this out of him with an adoring smile.

She'd show it to him. He knows she would. In his mind's eye, he can see her offering herself to him, sweet and submissive until he wakes her instincts. She would be a perfect mistress. Even with her husband she is demure – where he can see her, at least; she could be enticing him. Sometimes he sees the curve of her mouth, the brush of her hands and he knows it for a façade. She can torment her husband in public without a single eyebrow being raised. So it would be with him at a function, or – heaven forbid – in court.

He can see her, on her knees during a recess, her hair torn from her bun and wild about her face. She'd service him well and would always be there, smiling, when he sent a note round to her in the evening.

He can see her, head thrown back as he pumps into her, crying out for his seed. Her soft belly would be swollen with his bastard, a little girl who looked just like her. She would birth him daughters all, half a dozen younger Lucys. He wonders what her maiden name was; he'll make her take it again. She'll be all new for him, his Lucy.

But he knows her already; he knows what she is and what she likes. Probably a romantic gesture, like him fighting a dragon for her sake. No woman likes her husband, not really. Perhaps he'll manage that for her. It's possible she'd prefer flowers. No matter. He's rich enough for both.


End file.
